


Everywhere, Just Like Narrators

by BritishAssistant



Series: Pirates and/or Ninjas [2]
Category: Naruto, One Piece
Genre: Destroying Canon, Fandom Allusions & Cliches & References, Isekai, Iwagakure | Hidden Stone Village, Kirigakure | Hidden Mist Village, Konohagakure | Hidden Leaf Village, Kumogakure | Hidden Cloud Village, Multi, Reincarnation, Scheming, Side Story, Sunagakure | Hidden Sand Village, You know the saying too many cooks spoil the broth?, saving canon, while trying to save it, yeah that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:29:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27161849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BritishAssistant/pseuds/BritishAssistant
Summary: People who did not quite die when they were twenty and those around them; Snippets and side stories to But I Like One Piece.
Series: Pirates and/or Ninjas [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1842787
Comments: 33
Kudos: 77





	1. Too Many Bridges (I Dig Canals)

He was twenty-two when he died.

His mama hadn’t wanted him to move out to West Texas, crying that it wasn’t _safe_. His dad had soothed that he’d be fine at UTEP, the first one in the family to go to university, a _business major_ , doing them all so proud.

His little sister had said they’d all dealt with much worse in high school, where the teachers screamed at you for speaking Spanish until you could barely remember a word.

His short older sister just snuck a dumb Homestuck backpack into his luggage, filled with the latest volumes of _Boruto_. He’d liked to read them while eating shitty convenience store ramen at 2AM.

Then he’d run out of cup ramen in his senior year, gone to the 7-11 at 1AM to grab some more, and made the mistake of glancing at a cracker junkie shaking from withdrawal.

Last thing he knew, he was bleeding out around a knife while the druggie tore through his groceries, crooning, “ _C’mon, c’mon where’s the hit, where is it, I know you’re hiding it_.”

He’d only had the strength left to flip the racist fucker off before he finally drifted away.

He wakes as a baby.

The only natural response to this is to begin screaming.

What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the _fuck_?! Why the fuck is he a baby?! Is everyone a baby when they go to Heaven?! Or wait, his butt’s kinda damp, is this Heaven at all?! Is he in Hell?! Was him flipping off that cracker enough to get him sent to Hell, after all he’s done?! All the masses he’s been to?! For the love of Christ, what’s going _on_ —

A woman with white-blond hair and a tired face leans over him, muttering something harsh-sounding in a foreign language.

A loud and angry sounding man’s voice shouts something from somewhere he can’t see, which startles him into crying harder.

Then a large and callused hand slams down over his mouth, practically smothering him.

The woman’s face looms over him, wrinkled and shadowed like the face of the devil himself, poisonous green eyes glaring at him.

“ _Damare, kuso gaki_.” The devil-woman hisses.

He whimpers.

His hair is green now.

Like a dehydrated shrub left too long in the heat, spiky-dry and almost yellowing at the edges.

And his eyes are purple. As if the _green spiky anime hair_ wasn’t enough to humiliate him.

He misses his mama and his dad and his sisters but thank Jesus they’ll never see him like this.

At least his skin color’s pretty much the same as his last life. If he ended up resembling that fucking junkie who murdered him in any way, shape or form...

Well. All he knows is it wouldn't be pretty.

His new name is Meiun Nobuo.

The devil-woman who would rather smother him in his crib than let him cry apparently gave birth to him.

The deadbeat who cursed him with this eye and hair color and returns most nights stinking of alcohol and rotting fish is the sperm donor.

He misses his real family.

They live in a dock town.

Their house is farthest from the shore, so the scent of rotting fish guts and seagull shit is vaguely bearable. It’s bigger than the fishermen and farmer’s huts and market stalls that make up the rest of the village, with a curved asian roof.

He thinks the sperm donor is in a relatively high position in the village, perhaps an official of some sort. Probably inherited, because he seriously doubts anyone with a brain would elect that drunk deadbeat to any position of authority, but who knows.

He used to think the same thing about the government in his past life, and look what happened there.

Ragged official looking people buzz in and out of the rooms he’s not supposed to enter all day every day. Some of them smile at him if they notice him, lips spread sickeningly wide and eyes sycophantically crinkled.

Others look at him like he’s a nuisance, worthy of only their ire.

As if he asked to be reborn to this fucking paltry excuse for family when he had a perfectly good one back home

The devil-woman isn’t from around here.

That much is obvious in the way she’s constantly ill at ease, snapping at the slightest inconvenience, acting like everyone’s out to get her.

To be fair, a lot of them probably _are_ just for the chance to have some peace and quiet again.

He privately counts himself among that number.

She’s always grumbling about how much better it is in rain, but regardless of the weather her shitty attitude never seems to improve.

She also starts trying to poison him when he turns four.

When his rice tastes weirdly bitter he spits it back into the bowl.

The devil-woman slaps him across the face.

“ _Eat_.” She hisses, forcing his head into the bowl. “I didn’t destroy my body for you to bring shame to the Dokuso name like this. Your great uncle was already immune to neurotoxins by the time he was your age. The least _you_ can do is _eat_.”

He tries to struggle, to scream for someone to help him, but the devil-woman just forces his head down farther until he swallows every last grain of tainted rice.

His body won’t stop shaking for the rest of the day, every gasp of air feeling like it’s scraping his lungs raw.

It becomes some kind of demented pattern.

He’s poisoned, he suffers, his body adjusts, he’s poisoned again in a new way, rinse and repeat until he seriously finds himself contemplating whether his last death was better than this.

The look of dissatisfaction the devil-woman always wears, as though he’s somehow not doing this (or dying) _fast enough_ for her liking, weighs the argument a lot.

On the days where he’s in less danger of throwing up his guts, he has lessons with a tutor, because of course he fucking does.

Death, taxes and homework: the three constants of existence.

The tutor calls him a prodigy with mathematics, even if his grasp of kanji is shaky.

The deadbeat uses this as an excuse to push some of his work onto a five year old with some garbled line about “carrying on the work of our forefathers”.

He hates this.

He hates it so fucking much.

He prays every night, asking Christ why he’s being tormented like this. He hasn’t got an answer back yet.

He’s gonna make a break for it as soon as he’s old enough to do so. He’s still too young to be allowed out of the house, even for festivals. He also doesn’t receive anything like an allowance yet either, though he suspects that’s more due to the fact that the sperm donor is a cheapskate.

It’s fine. It’ll be fine. He’s already got access to some of the accounts, has proven himself to be a dedicated worker beneath suspicion.

Nobody’ll suspect the kid “carrying on the work of his forefathers” if money begins disappearing, not when there are so many greedy adults around. It’s foolproof.

He’s just gotta wait until he learns where he is and how he can get away.

He can do that. It’ll be fine.

“The daimyō has declared kekkai genkai users enemies of the state.” His sperm donor complains one evening. “The Mizukage has authorized the use of deadly force to subdue them.”

The devil-woman sniffs, says something nasally and contrarian back but he can’t hear her over the blood rushing in his ears.

 _Kekkai genkai_.

 _Mizukage_.

His mouth is dry. He can’t breathe.

There’s no way—there’s absolutely no fucking way—the tech here is way too primitive, he must be hallucinating, going through withdrawal from not reading his favorite manga for so long.

There’s no way this place could be the same world as _Boruto_. Besides, Chojuro would never authorize a-a _genocide_ like that, Kagura-kun would be so disappointed in him—

_But Kagura-kun’s grandfather wouldn’t have had any problems with it, would he?_

It’s not until the devil-woman whacks him over the head and screams at him to get up that he realizes he’s on the floor.

He climbs shakily to his feet.

He endures the scolding quietly.

He goes to his room when dismissed.

He shuts the door behind him and slides down it, trying to muffle the sounds escaping his throat. They could be hysterical laughter or sobs. He really isn’t sure.

Because _of course_ he’s been reborn years before any of the good characters of this series or plot developments that he can clearly remember will make their appearance.

_That’s just his fucking luck._

He presses his forehead to his knees and screams.

This revelation helps along his plans, at least.

If he’s in Kiri, then he knows he’s probably on one of the many islands that make up the...peninsula? Archipelago? Fuck, geography was never his strong suit.

But yeah, he’ll need to charter a boat to get to the mainland so he can disappear.

He briefly entertains the idea of becoming a ninja for Kiri, maybe growing up to become one of Chojuro’s aides and Kagura-kun’s mentors. Getting to meet Boruto when that arc comes around.

But no. Or at least, not yet.

Going there before Terumi Mei has had the chance to overthrow Yagura isn’t a good idea, what with the whole “kill everyone else you studied with to become a genin” thing they’ve got going on. Also the people claiming to be his parents might track him down and have him sent back.

Fire Country is probably his best bet to vanish. The ninja there actually care about the populace.

He might even be able to go to Konoha. See Boruto and Sarada and Mitsuki grow up firsthand.

The thought leaves a warm feeling in his chest even as his limbs tremble from the effects of the latest venom for the rest of the week.

It doesn’t last.

Of course it doesn’t.

It’s one thing to _know_ that certain people in the community are slated for death.

It’s a different ballgame entirely to see a mob barge into the sperm donor’s office, howling for blood.

He can only hear the words “kekkai genkai filth” chanted like a curse before the deadbeat is nodding his head and rising, grabbing a huge ass sword from where it’s been gathering dust on the wall.

He tries to shrink back, tries to let the throng pass him without drawing their attention, but a hand grabs his collar and yanks him away from his little table, away from his calculations, and drags him along with the frothing crowd of people with hate in their eyes.

He’s squashed near the back of the herd, but every time he tries to get away there are hands and arms to yank him back into line, hands of men or women or—Jesus, or _other kids_.

He’s eventually funneled through the doorway of a tiny farmer’s hut, pushed into one of the walls by the crush of people, and he looks up and there’s—

There’s—

Oh God.

Oh God.

Oh Jesus in Heaven have mercy.

He can’t look.

It’s awful, it’s too much, he can’t look, he _can’t_ , he gags, averts his eyes—

He sees the girl in the corner of the room.

She’s crying, mouthing “ _Mama_ ” to herself over and over.

One of those murderers has seen her too.

The man takes a step towards the girl—

“ _Stay the fuck away from her!_ ” He yells.

He can’t remember moving. All he knows is he’s now in between the girl and the mob, knees trembling and adrenaline pounding in his ears.

His voice is all shaky and squeaky, not intimidating at all.

He’s scared.

Jesus Christ, he’s so scared.

These monsters just killed that innocent lady for their dumb fucking witch hunt.

What’ll they do to this girl if they get their hands on her?

One of the villagers steps forward and growls, “Outta the way, boy. You don’t wanna get hurt for that _thing_.”

“Fuck you, asshole!” He screams back.

“Meiun, discipline your fucking brat before we do it for you!” Someone else in the mob shouts.

The sperm donor is pushed to the front and begrudgingly holds out a hand. “Don’t be stupid Nobuo. Get your ass over here, _now_.”

“Listen to your father!” The demon-woman shrieks from the safety of several people away.

He laughs. He can’t help it. “My _father_?! You want me to acknowledge that drunken excuse of a sperm donor as a _father_?! Get real, you fucking hag!! You and him wouldn’t know what real fucking parenting looked like if you fucking _murdered_ it in cold fucking blood!!”

He points at what’s left of the lady. “Because guess what? Looks like ya did!”

“How _dare_ you—” The deadbeat’s gone dark purple.

“No, how dare _you_?!” His hands are shaking and Christ, there’s no way this can end well, but his mouth won’t stop running. “That lady was a perfectly fucking nice lady, a loving wife and a good mom and you assholes think you can just come out here and murder her for what?! Having something that you don’t?! Being a genuinely good person, like you aren’t?! You’re all just JEALOUS FU—”

Pain _explodes_ in his temple.

A man’s screaming, “SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP, YOU KNOW _NOTHING_ YOU LITTLE BASTARD, SHUT UP—”

He tries to raise his arms, tries to fight back, but the man’s swinging too wildly, he can’t stop the blow to the gut that knocks the air out of him.

More arms appear from nowhere, shoving him to the ground, pinning him down, jeers and taunts about how if he loves kekkai genkai filth that much he can join them, see what happens to them.

The knife glints evilly in the light.

He doesn’t wanna die again.

Jesus Christ, he doesn’t wanna die again.

There’s cold for a moment behind his right ear.

And then there’s nothing but _agony_ , red and sharp and pounding pounding pounding and Nobuo is screaming screaming _screaming_.

Until his throat feels like it’s going to give out.

Until he knows he’ll die like this.

 _He doesn’t wanna die he doesn’t wanna die he doesn’t wanna die he doesn’t wanna die he doesn’t wanna die he doesn’t wanna die he doesn’t wanna die he doesn’t wanna_ die _Christ_ —

The sensation is sudden and painful.

Like he’s been punched in the chest again, but in reverse.

Something erupts _from_ him, with enough force to leave him breathless.

The jeers and ugly laughter become screams as pained as his own.

“Shit, _he’s_ one _t—_?!” is the last thing he hears before a sound like glass shattering over and over overwhelms all other noise, even the terrified shrieks for mercy.

Nobuo’s eyes roll back into his head.

He blacks out.

The right side of his head throbs.

He whimpers in pain, curling in on himself.

“A-are you alright? Are you hurting? I tried to patch you up as best I could...” A soft, sweet voice murmurs.

He cracks open his eyes a sliver to see a dark-haired head with a pretty face hovering over him. The pretty face looks worried, almost scared.

“What...?” He tries to ask, voice croaky as hell. “Where...?”

“Ah, I, uh, took you and ran away after you got those guys off you.” The pretty face explains, averting their eyes for some reason. Their kimono is torn in places. “You-your e- _head_ was bleeding really bad, so I tried to fix it, but I don’t think I did a very good job...”

What?

His hand lifts to the side of his head, feeling cloth sticky with what he can only assume is blood.

And feeling nothing beneath it.

His breathing hitches. He tries to stop it, tries to gulp the panic and fear back down, he can’t cry, he’ll get hit again if he cries, he _can’t_ —

He lets out a sound that can only be described as a wail, shoulders shaking.

There’s movement and he flinches, oh god, he doesn’t want a hit, not now, not when he’s already dealing with this—

Small, thin arms wrap around him, trembling. A head of soft hair buries itself in his other shoulder, and a low voice begins sobbing “I-I’m so-sorry, I-I didn’t, I co-couldn’t stop them, I’m sorry, I’m _sorry_ ,” in his remaining ear.

A small part of his brain notes that this is the first time he’s been hugged since he woke up as a baby.

They cry for a long, long time.

Finally, when it feels like he’s gonna have a head cold for a week at least, he shrugs his shoulder minutely.

The girl looks up, face blotchy and red.

“You’re that girl, right? What’s your name?” He croaks.

The girl tenses and pulls away a little. “I’m Haku. I’m eight. A-and I-I’m a b-boy.”

“Oh. Sorry.” He rubs the back of his neck, feeling his cheeks flush. Where does he feel like he’s heard that name before...?

“And you are?” Haku prompts.

“M-Meiun Nobuo.” He states with a grimace. “M’ six.”

“Ah...then Official Meiun was...” Haku’s eyes begin to fill with tears again. “Y-your father, and, and your m-mother—”

“God no.” He snaps. “That man impregnated that woman to make me, but father and mother are the last things they can be called. _Real_ parents don’t pull the shit they do on their kids.”

He folds his arms across his chest. “This may’ve sped up my plans, but you did me a favor, taking me with you. I was planning on running away anyway.”

Haku lets out a confused sniffle.“Where were you planning on running away to?”

“Fire Country.” He might puff out his chest a little. “Their ninja actually care about people, and they don’t hate people with kekkai genkai there.”

“Kekkai genkai...th-that’s what they kept calling me and m-mama...” Fat tears begin rolling Haku’s pretty face.

He shakily slides an arm around the older boy’s shoulders. “Y-you can come with me. If you want. I-I don’t exactly know the way, I was hoping to get some more geography and funds first, b-but I’ll figure something out, I swear.”

Haku takes a few deep, shuddery breaths. “I-I don’t either, but I know how to get to the next village, if that’s okay?”

“That’s great! That’s way better than what I can do!” He assures, giving his traveling companion’s shoulder a pat. “...d’you, like, wanna start going now, or...?”

“Can we stay here for a moment?” Haku asks. “J-just until I can check your head’s okay?”

Meiun Nobuo nods carefully, leaning more against the older boy. “Sure. No rush.”


	2. I’m Not David Bowie

She is not twenty when she dies.

She is pushing thirty, but she’ll never tell you how close. It’s rude to inquire about a lady’s age after all.

She lives alone, with a cat. It may be stereotypical, but there it is. Her cat’s name is Con-Con, which is short for Connard. This is because her cat is just kind of a bitch.

That’s okay, because according to her coworkers, she can be kind of a bitch too.

Hasn’t stopped over half of them begging to crawl into her bed.

She’s a material science engineer, working on her phd. As her profession implies, she loves figuring out how things work, and if she can make them more useful, work _better_.

From the most innocuous fantasy, like the jutsus in the BD she reads in her downtime, to the most dangerous realities, like the nuclear plant where she works. Creation and innovation are her métier.

It is something like irony, then, that she dies with the hands of a luddite who cannot even be inventive enough to use a tool to kill her wrapped around her neck.

She spits into her murderer’s eyes as she goes and takes a vicious sort of pleasure at the impotent rage on the backwards bitch’s face.

Opening her eyes again was surprising.

Not unwelcome, but surprising.

That she is unable to vocalize anything but gurgles and hapless wails is far more unsettling.

It is cold. Colder than anything she has ever known, even bundled up under layers of blankets.

A wizened old lady picks her up and cradles her in arms that shake gently under her weight, hushing and murmuring things in a language that sounds Asian, if she had to guess.

She understands none of what the old woman is saying.

It is soothing nonetheless, though she does wish she was capable of apologizing to the old woman for burdening her so.

Maybe then the kind old woman would stop weeping so much.


	3. The Only Job in Ninja Village

He was eighteen when he died.

He and his best friend shared everything growing up. The same street, the same schools, the same dogeared copies of _Naruto_ despite differing opinions on ships, and the same love the sport Americans call “football” despite its lack of feet.

They even went to the same university, found and joined a team together. His best friend was running back, and he was linebacker, making sure nothing got past him.

Their team was good. So good that an agent from America got in touch, looking to sign them on to the big time. That night was a celebration like no other, all of them drunk and so _happy_.

Then his best friend stood up, turned to the rest of the team, and told them, “I think I identify as a woman.”

It took him a moment to realize he was the only one congratulating her.

That their teammates’ faces were twisted with an expression he just couldn’t get, snarling awful, horrible things, looking so _angry_.

He told her to get out of there, to run, he’s the linebacker, he won’t let them get past him—

The bar stool smashing into his face hurt.

So did the blows raining down on him, fists, feet, furniture, until his vision fades to black.

His only comfort is that his best friend is long gone, that the people he thought would always have his back are too focused on him to hurt her.

He’s sad to go first, but he hopes she’ll forgive him this.

Waking up as a baby is _weird_.

It’s all gurgling noises that become whines that threaten to become tears the longer real words fail to be said.

A dark-haired man appears before tears become real, speaking some kind of foreign language in a gentle sing-songy voice, before blowing a raspberry onto a fat little belly.

It tickles, inspiring a shrill of high-pitched laughter as the man laughs along, lifting up little feet and making them kick in a kind of dance.

The man has a nice face, big smiles and kind eyes. His nose is also big enough to grab easily, which is a major plus.

A woman’s voice, fondly exasperated and talking in the same mystery language, comes from somewhere. Big hands gently cradle a small head and back, a pretty curly-haired lady with a dry smile appearing once the man turns around.

Being carried reveals so many interesting things, like that a lot of the house is made from rock? And we’re going over here now, to what looks like a big basin filled with warm water next to a sink?

The baby is gently placed in the basin. He kicks experimentally and looks down at the splashes.

Huh, she thinks. Well, this is new.


	4. The Narrative Roles of Haruno Sakura

Haruno Sakura is a civilian.

Daughter of career genin Kisashi and Mebuki Haruno, a bookish, bright girl determined to do her parents, her friends, her village proud and prove everyone who said she would never be anything more _wrong_.

She is a popular girl, for a given value of popular. She is more a hanger-on than anything else, hanging out with people who are friends with _her_ friend. She doubts any of them would give her the time of day if she wasn’t _bffs for life_ with Ino.

She is the “best friend” character in the romance novels she and Ino love to read, the sidekick who cheers on the heroine from the sidelines, fated to end up with someone quirky out of convenience, to tie up loose ends.

She loves Ino. She really, truly does. The girl was the first to look at her and see past a crushed self-image and forehead to hide, the first to tell Sakura to dare to be _more_ than the role others consigned her to.

Haruno Sakura looks in the mirror and tries to be happy with being the sidekick.

She loves Uchiha Sasuke with all the force her being can muster.

He’s smart and handsome and serious and everything a romance hero should be.

She’s upset when she learns the rest of the girls in their class claim to love him too, because that means she’s got to work harder than she’s ever worked before, got to surpass them all, to be worthy of his attention.

She’s horrified when Ino says she likes him, because she _knows_ can never surpass Ino. The sidekick never steals the hero away from the heroine, and what are Ino-chan and Sasuke-kun if not the perfect romance novel couple?

It stings all the more when one of the few girls who hasn’t professed her affection for Sasuke somehow gets all his attention.

Mayu acts like she barely tolerates Sasuke, always being rude and insulting towards him, mocking his every decision. And yet _she’s_ the one he invites over to his house, _she’s_ the one whose homemade food he eats, _she’s_ the one he works hard to impress with his own cooking.

It’s not fair. Sasuke should at least be with someone who likes him, and Mayu doesn’t even seem to know what she’s doing, doesn’t seem to _care_.

It’s not fair because Sakura _likes_ Mayu.

She taught Sakura how to make jam after punching Ami in the face for her, tells stories of pirates and adventure and fearsome women that make Sakura _want_ , brings dango just to trade it to Sakura at lunchtime because she _knows_ Sakura loves it.

The rival who schemes to keep the heroine and hero apart should be evil and foul, like Ami.

Making it someone like Mayu is just too cruel.


	5. When I Took You In (Snake Summoner Mayu AU)

It is bitterly cold in the mountains.

Ikuchi should not be here. She should be nesting down in a warm cave, belly fat and full, sleeping til the spring.

But the summoner has commanded she undertake this mission. It is a task beneath the summoner’s dignity, but the client is willing to pay good coin for its completion.

Enter the samurai nest. Find the hatchling of the client’s kin. Kill it.

She had been selected for her pale scales, her small size, her venom.

The summoner had remarked these made her perfect for infiltrating the snowy mountains the nest was hidden in with a cruel smile.

Manda is all too willing to swallow even small snakes like her who refuse or question the summoner’s commands.

She does not wish to be eaten yet.

So she slithers through another snowdrift, desperately praying to the Sage that she won’t freeze before she even arrives.

She stopped being able to see a while ago.

Her tongue feels like it will snap clean off if she tastes the icy air too frequently.

Only the faintest sensation of vibrations keeps her from curling in on herself to preserve whatever smidgeon of warmth she has left.

Only that makes her push her frozen muscles to keep going, heading _towards_ rather than _away_ as her instincts feebly hiss.

Where there are vibrations, there are humans.

Where there are humans, there is heat.

She will not freeze if there is heat.

She will not die on this Sage-forsaken mountain. She will _not_.

She forces herself to crawl forwards.

Ikuchi is so so cold.

She stiffly twines herself up and around something not-alive, slithering cautiously over new terrain with tiny bumps in it.

There is no snow anymore, thank the Sage, but it is still so so _cold_.

She cannot even taste anything anymore.

Her head bumps into something else. She noses it carefully.

Not-alive. Safe to climb.

She sluggishly heaves herself up the not-alive thing.

There are faint vibrations coming from above her. She needs to get to the vibrations. She’ll die if she can’t get to them.

If she could just heave herself over the edge of this not-alive thing—

_Heat_.

Lovely, warm, delicious _heat_.

She twines eagerly around the source, burrowing her head under where it is hottest, letting out a hiss of contentment as the cold burns out of her blood.

_Aaaah_.

The heat source rises and falls rhythmically, a gentle _thud-thud-thud_ vibration filling her senses.

She shuts her eyes and lets herself drift in the warmth.

She is jostled awake when the heat source lets out a snuffly noise and wriggles slightly before settling.

As the heat source has saved her from dying an ignoble death via cold, she graciously decides not to bite it to stop it from moving.

Instead she retracts her head from the warmest spot to get a good feel for what exactly her new warmth generator _is_.

Her tongue flickers out over soft, faintly downy skin, over small features that scrunch up at the inspection before smoothing back out in sleep.

It’s a human hatchling. A very young one at that, barely a few days out of the egg at her best guess. Or was it weeks for humans? Maybe months?

Humans are strange, Ikuchi reflects.

They’re so vulnerable for so long early in life, it’s a miracle that any of them even survive to adulthood.

That’s probably why the adult humans that are running around are so hardy. The summoner is proof enough of that.

Though other adult humans calling for the deaths of hatchlings, like the client, probably don’t help survival rates much.

Wait.

The client.

The mission.

Ikuchi pokes her head over the edge of the hatchling’s resting place and tastes the air.

A bigger human, also asleep.

Stuffy cloth.

Tatami mats.

Sharp metal. Lots and lots of sharp metal.

She retreats back down and noses over the hatchling, searching its cloth coverings until she finds what she was hoping she wouldn’t.

A stylized bird with wings raised, its beak piercing its own breast to draw blood.

The symbol of the client and his kin. The kin whose hatchling she’s supposed to kill.

Well.

Hm.

She settles her head back down in the warmest spot, burrowing under where the hatchling’s head meets its body and tries to think.

It’s...regrettable that the hatchling is what saved her from an icy death. But she has a job to do. A mission to complete.

It’s not like she particularly _wants_ to do it. No, no, if she had it her way, she’d gladly bite the summoner _and_ the client for good measure. Teach them for sending her to die in the cold for worthless bits of round metal.

But she _has_ to complete the mission. Manda will eat her for failing the summoner otherwise.

All it will take is one tiny little bite. The hatchling will only suffer for a few moments.

...Okay, more like several minutes. It’s not like it’s _her_ fault the venom will take longer because the hatchling is so big. She’s not a constrictor!

She flicks her tongue out irritably.

One bite.

Just one bite is all it would take.

Then she could be back in the caves with her brothers and sisters and never have to think about warm hatchlings and their weak, pathetic, pitiful death throes ever again.

The hatchling above her makes a little cooing noise and shifts above her, covering more of her coils in warmth as it squirms.

It even considerately takes some of its weight off of where she was beginning to feel a bit squashed.

She finds it distinctly annoying that this tiny human she’s supposed to kill has done more for her than _her own summoner_.

At this rate, she’d rather throw her lot in with _it_ instead of continuing to—

Wait.

She pokes her head up again, considering the hatchling.

...Below average chakra reserves. But those should increase as it grows, right?

And she could help _guide_ its growth.

Make it a much better summoner than her current one, or even his student.

Perhaps most importantly, she knows the Great Snake Sage will not let Manda eat her if she is contracted to another summoner.

He had thrown a tantrum when the summoner’s student had turned on him, but the Sage had not let him eat those snakes contracted to the student. She will be safe from his wrath.

In the caves at least. If they meet on the field of battle, she’ll be fair game.

But even one safe haven from Manda is better than none.

The scroll is heavy and difficult to unravel for a snake her size.

Still, she gets it open and props it up against the wall of the hatchling’s resting place.

After ensuring that the right segment is where she needs it to be, she twists around to look at the tiny human,

The hatchling looks back at her.

Its dark grey eyes do not focus on her, moving with the restless blindness of the very young.

“I am Ikuchi of Ryuichi Cave.” She hisses softly. “By your blood on this contract, we will become bonded. Do you accept?”

The hatchling gurgles.

Close enough.

She carefully pricks the hatchling’s finger with her lower fangs.

It wouldn’t do to poison her summoner.

Not yet anyway.

The hatchling whines, wiggling weakly as if that would make the pain stop. Blood beads on the appendage, bright red and hot.

She coils her tail around the tiny, soft wrist, and guides it to drag against the blank space on the parchment.

A rush of chakra.

A sensation not unlike a successful shed, useless dead scales sloughing away for gleaming new ones to take their place.

Ikuchi hisses in pleasure.

Ah. Her summoner is crying.

Squalling really, red-faced and snotty-nosed, thoroughly miserable.

The bleeding on its hand hasn’t stopped. It looks like it might have gotten worse, actually.

Ikuchi racks her brain for what little she knows about human physiology and healing.

Did the bastard summoner say it was saliva or excrement that slowed bleeding?

A shadow falls over the resting place.

She coils back on the chest of her summoner, ready to strike at the intruder. Did the client already send another assassin, despite paying the bastard summoner? Was betrayal planned from the beginning?

The adult human above them has its teeth bared in threat, eyes furious yet frightened.

“ _Get the hell away from my daughter._ ” It snarls, drawing a short blade from its midsection.

What?

Oh.

It’s trying to defend its hatchling.

Ikuchi reluctantly slithers off of her summoner’s chest and does her best to look small and unassuming.

The human scoops up her summoner in a flash, one hand cradling its head while the other bares the blade, ready to strike at any moment. It’s an instinct she approves of, even if it _is_ completely pointless in this particular instance.

She curls up in the warm spot her summoner left behind, and announces, “I intend no permanent harm to the hatchling. It is contracted to me, and in my best interests to protect it.”

The human’s face creases in confusion, before its eyes land on the contract scroll.

Color drains from its face.

Huh. Ikuchi hadn’t known humans other than the bastard summoner could look like that. Maybe it was indicative of an emotion the bastard summoner felt all the time.

“Jirou!” The adult human’s shout is nearing a scream, eyes never leaving Ikuchi for a moment. “Jirou, get over here _right now!_ ”


	6. The Three Monsters

There’s a Demon in the Academy.

It’s a _miracle_ it’s even allowed to attend, is what Urami’s kaa-chan says to Akui’s in a low voice, shaking her head in that knowledgable way she does. Even if it’s in the year below Mi-chan and A-kun, everyone _knows_ it’ll only be a matter of time before it snaps and someone gets hurt. Foxes will kill all the chickens in a henhouse for fun rather than for food after all.

What are the Academy teachers thinking? Akui’s kaa-chan always asks in response. It’s not like training that _thing_ will make it any more loyal to the village. It’s a waste of their taxes to even let it take up a desk it’s too stupid and reckless to appreciate.

Urami sneaks a glance at it in the Academy playground in the morning, before classes.   
  
It’s already got it’s first victim singled out, hanging off the arm of that dead-fish-eyed girl with the awful fashion sense. It’s probably mistaken the foreigner for an _actual_ fish, she tells Akui-kun on their way to class.

He laughs in response. “Do you think Iron scrap _tastes_ like fish?”   
  
She shrugs. “I wouldn’t be surprised if that blond eyesore thinks so. The Demon’s so dumb, the only reason they let it in here is because the stupid teachers are too scared to tell it to go away. My mama says that if they have any sense, they won’t teach it anything.”

Akui-kun ponders this. “Well it’s so dumb, it probably doesn’t understand anything we’re learning _anyway_. It’s just a crappy fox after all! It could never be a good ninja!”   
  
She beams at her friend’s cleverness and is about to reply, when they’re rudely shouldered apart.   
  
“Hey!” She yells after the jerk who did it.

That idiot Rock Lee turns and smiles at them. His eyes are weird though, sending a shiver she’ll never admit to feeling down her spine. “Ah, excuse me fellow classmates! I was so busy thinking about how youthful my friends are, I did not notice you! Please accept my humble apologies for inconveniencing you!”

Akui-kun snorts. “Whatever, weirdo.”

They try to walk past him, but the stupid eyebrows blocks them from entering the classroom. “You know, Naruto-kun is sure to be an excellent ninja once we all graduate the Academy! His youthfulness and Will of Fire shine so brightly it is impossible not to notice! I hope to be on a team with him and the most beautiful Haruno Sakura under Gai-sensei once we graduate!!”

She can’t stop her lip from curling. “Seriously? That Demon is just a team casualty waiting to happen! Why would _anyone_ with a _brain_ want to be with a stupid monster like _him_?!”

Rock Lee stops smiling and looks her dead in the eye. “Naruto at least does not gossip about his comrades behind their backs like a coward. He’s already proven he’s a better ninja than you could ever hope to be.”

She feels her face going hot and Akui-kun splutters beside her as the know-nothing talentless eyebrows turns on his heel, _ignoring_ them as he goes to sit next to TenTen-san!

They try to make him pay in taijutsu spars later that day, they do! It’s not their fault that the stupid talentless eyebrows _cheats_ and is blatantly favored by Iruka-sensei because he’s so useless at everything else!!

Urami fusses over the red bruise on her cheek that afternoon after the Academy lets out. What if it _swells_ and goes all purple and ugly and Neji-kun will think _she’s_ hideous and never look at her ever again?!

Akui-kun grumbles and glares at where the useless talentless worthless eyebrows is messing around with the demon by the swings. “What would _he_ even know about being a ninja?! He can’t even use chakra! He’s the biggest failure of a ninja there is!”

She shuts her compact with a click. “I think it’s amazing _he_ hasn’t dropped out already. I mean, him having a desk at the Academy is somehow an even bigger waste of time than that demon right? Letting him believe he can be a ninja when he’s so worthless—the teachers really are cruel.”

Akui-kun’s mouth curls up into that smile he gets whenever he’s thought of something really clever. “It’s probably because he’s an orphan, you know? It’s seriously charity, because everyone feels sorry for such a pathetic pair of eyebrows. That’s probably why he’s hanging out with the demon too. Who _else_ would want him?”

She giggles high and fast, feeling daring. “I bet his parents are alive but were so disgusted with what an ugly baby he was, they dumped him at the Orphanage rather than be burdened with him. I mean, if I had a baby that looked like him, I’d get rid of it as fast as I could!”

Akui-kun grins back, his eyebrows creased.

”Oi, you two.”

They turn to see the Iron girl standing behind them, hips cocked at a weird angle. Her dead-fish-eyes are super _creepy_ , staring down at them without blinking.

She flushes. “D-don’t you know better than to eavesdrop on your senpai?!” 

She tilts her head, lips curling up into a mocking smirk. “Yeah, I really couldn’t give less of shit. Just thought I’d give you some...friendly advice.”

Akui-kun straightens, looking down his nose at the dumb foreigner. “Wh-what could someone like you even tell us that we don’t already know?”

The Iron scrap shrugs almost carelessly. “Lee’s going to be the best ninja this village has ever seen. He’s kind and honest and strong, even without using ch-chakra to cheat. It’s why Gai-sensei brought him to our training, why everyone who’s anyone is friends with him, why my parents keep trying to adopt him even though the Orphanage is too _dumb_ to let us. Telling lies about an amazing person like him...you’re just _asking_ to get _cursed_.”

She wants to laugh, ask the stupid immigrant what the hell rotted her brain, but she—she can’t. Akui-kun’s gone pale and his mouth is quivering. The air feels—feels _heavy_ , all of a sudden. Almost like it won’t let her _breathe_.

The slant-eyed scrap pats them each on the shoulder, smirk wide and _evil_. “I’d pray for forgiveness if I were you, and watch your mouths in the future. _You never know who’s listening after all_.”

Then that—that stupid, eavesdropping, treacherous _intruder_ walks past them to where the demon and eyebrows are waiting and waving to her.

She can’t move a muscle until the three monsters leave the Academy grounds. Then Akui-kun bursts into tears.

  
Urami’s had a string of bad luck since last night. It almost feels like everything that could go wrong did, starting from when she complained about the eavesdropping foreigner to kaa-chan, only for her mother to go pale and scold her furiously for insulting Lee when he’s a student of the jounin Maito Gai.

When she sees Akui-kun after her kaa-chan drags her round to discuss what happened with Akui’s kaa-chan, he’s looking just as pale and tired as she feels.

”That stupid foreigner probably cursed us with creepy Iron magic.” He complains as they sit on his back porch. 

She shudders. “You think so? How _awful_! She’s not human!”

“Well, Iron samurai are so backwards they basically live in caves in the mountains.” Akui-kun says. “Tou-san says they’re more like monkeys that learned how to swing around swords than _actual people_.”

”I hate her.” She complains, spinning a kunai around her finger. “What’s that dead-fish-eyes even doing in this village anyway?! She and her scrap metal family should just go back to the mountains where they belong!”

Akui-kun straightens, looking at the bush at the bottom of the garden. “Pass that here.” He says.

She hands it over with a frown, and watches as he throws it at something. There’s a sound like a cry and she claps. “Well done Akui-kun! What’d you hit?”

He grins his special smile at her and pulls her down to the bottom of the garden. A fat grey pigeon lays dead in the dirt under the bush. She pulls out her kunai and wipes it on the vermin’s feathers.

“Tou-san used to go put these on the scrap’s doorstep with Gizen-jii when the slant’s father was trying to betray the village.” He tells her excitedly. “If we go put this there, it’ll make her stupid curse rebound back onto her for sure!”

She knew there was a reason why she was friends with him all these years! “For real?! You’re so smart Akui-kun!”

They both get up early and sneak out the next morning, the dead bird in a plastic shopping bag with “GO DIE STUPID IRON SCRAP” written on the outside with marker. She was quite proud of thinking to write that one there.

They get to the house where the foreigners live. They’re giggling to each other as they go up to the front door.

“Hey! What’re you guys doing?!”

Urami freezes. Akui looks terrified. 

They turn to see the Demon behind them.

It glances between them, then down at the bag. It’s face curls into a snarl at the sight of the marker, teeth white and pointed, blue eyes cruel, whiskers curving over its cheeks.

”LEAVE MAYU-CHAN ALONE!!” It screams, lunging for them. 

They drop the bag and run for it, but it’s no use, the Demon’s too fast, it’s _gaining on them._

It is a Fox that will kill them for fun at any moment, Urami’s sure of it.

Suddenly her shirt is seized and she can’t run anymore. She thrashes around, trying to escape, hears Akui-kun screaming that it was all her idea, like a _liar—_

Urami looks up and sees a pair of eyebrows even bushier than dumb Lee’s on the man holding onto her and Akui-kun.

”WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?” The giant green eyebrows booms.

She tries to stutter out an answer, or beg the man to not let the Fox eat them, when the Demon yells, “Gai-sensei, those jerks were tryna put this outside Mayu-chan’s door, believe it! There’s—oh _gross_ , there’s a _dead bird_ in here!!”

The giant eyebrows pull down to look thunderous, and Urami whimpers.

  
Urami doesn’t talk to Akui-kun anymore. 

She isn’t allowed to listen when her parents talk about grown-up village things anymore either. Not since the jounin in green escorted her and Akui home in disgrace and scolded them in front of their parents. She’s apparently “too immature” to be trusted with listening anymore.   
  
She’s heard rumors Akui-kun might drop out of the Academy soon and go work at his Gizen-jii’s convenience store. She kind of hopes he won’t, even if he is a spineless traitor who tried to sell her out. 

She doesn’t know if she can survive being a ninja on her own.

One thing’s for sure though. 

She is staying as far away as she can get from those— those three _monsters_ as she can get.


End file.
